


I Spy With My Little Eye: Something Green

by LokianaWinchester



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Illya POV, M/M, Mistletoe, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 12:03:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17121002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokianaWinchester/pseuds/LokianaWinchester
Summary: Your average Mistletoe Fic (tm) featuring your favourite spies.Forthe_worrying_kind<3





	I Spy With My Little Eye: Something Green

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_worrying_kind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_worrying_kind/gifts).



> Henlo and welcome to this fic. Please appreciate the punny title :)

Illya had come to terms with his sexuality long ago. He had also come to terms with the fact that, with his job and with his sexual orientation, he would never find love. Not that he had expected that in the first place; the KGB and love did not exactly fit together.

But then came Napoleon with his face and his voice and his brilliant mind and Illya wanted to take a step back, he wanted to distance himself, because even if Napoleon made it clear from the very beginning that his interest was not only focused on women, Illya still did not stand a chance.

Napoleon probably fancied slender, pretty boys; Napoleon surely would not be interested in him. And even if he was, he would only end up hurting Illya. Nobody ever stayed, everybody ended up hurting him and really, Illya was sick of it and wanted a break. he wanted peace and he wanted quiet, but that seemed very hard to find with Napoleon anywhere around. Napoleon was a terrible nuisance; he was annoying, he was all up in people’s business even if it did not concern him in the least. Perhaps that made him a good spy, but Illya was not at all comfortable with it.

He was afraid that Napoleon could find out about him; that he hated his loneliness, that he was not as okay with his life as he always said. That he wanted to be himself without hiding.

That was not an option though; Illya knew it and hated that fact with every fibre of his being.

And then there was the one thing Illya was most afraid Napoleon could find out; Illya was beyond attracted to him. He wanted Napoleon, despite all his terrible habits, despite his personality.

Or maybe because of it. A big part of his attraction came from the fact that the two of them were so different. In a way the saying ‘opposites attract’ really fit in this context.

And then Napoleon started to pull back from the casual friendship that had formed between them. He became distanced as if he was protecting himself from Illya.

And Illya could not really blame him; maybe Napoleon had sensed his interest, maybe he just felt uncomfortable around Illya. Whatever the reason, Illya was suffering. He hated the situation, he hated his life, and he hated his feelings. But he did not hate Napoleon; he could never.

They were invited to a Christmas party, or rather a small gathering of friends before the holidays.

Gaby was hosting it, her boyfriend Jack and his sister, one of Gaby’s close friends were going to be there, Waverly said he would try to pop by later – Illya did not believe him, because he had seen the uncomfortable look on his face when Gaby left his office – Napoleon was invited and Illya of course.

A bottle of store-bought mulled wine in hand and a box with Gaby and Jack’s present in the other, Illya climbed the stairs to the apartment.

“Illya!” Gaby greeted him seconds after he rang the doorbell.

“Come in! How are you doing? Napoleon is already here. We’re finally complete!”

Illya smiled and stepped inside.

“You said you didn’t have star for tree. Is good thing to have star,” Illya said and handed Gaby the box.

“Oh thanks, darling! We’ll definitely put it up!”

She put the box aside and put her arms around Illya’s middle. He laid his arm around her shoulders.

“You’re welcome, chop shop girl.”

“So,” Gaby bounced back, “come on in!”

Illya took off his jacket, neatly put it on a coat hanger and followed Gaby into the living room. Jack was sitting in an armchair, next to him on the sofa was Leah, his sister and on the other sofa sat Napoleon. Their heads turned when Gaby and Illya entered the room.

“Illya, hi,” said Jack.

“Hey,” echoed Leah.

Napoleon nodded at him.

“Peril.” He did not say anything more, turned away quickly; apparently he was no less hesitant to be around Illya than when they were alone.

Once the initial awkwardness that inevitably came with such gatherings and the small talk connected to them passed, Illya found himself having a great time. He was sitting next to Leah, a mug of mulled wine between his hands, enjoying the warmth.

Every now and then, he looked at Napoleon who was avidly chatting with Jack.

When his cup was empty, Illya got up to go to the kitchen for a refill. He turned around to get back to the comfort of the sofa and nearly bumped into Napoleon.

“Steady there, Peril.” Napoleon gripped his upper arm, turned to face Illya and grinned.

“Mmh,” made Illya. He could not think of a more articulated answer.

Illya hated his treacherous heart for beating faster all of a sudden. Napoleon stepped even closer and lifted his head to look up at the door frame above them. Illya followed his gaze.

His heart sank when he saw the mistletoe above them.

“Shit.”

“Cursing, Illya? Really?” Napoleon raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. If only he knew what it did to Illya, hearing his name from Napoleon like this; up close, his voice unstrained, his slight accent, audible even on this one word. His breath hitched.

“And what about it?” he replied, his own voice barely more than a raspy whisper.

“Well...” Illya did not like that grin at all. “Don’t you wanna kiss me?”

God. This was not going to go well. Once again he was at a loss for words. His only two choices were either admitting to his deep desire to do just that, or to deny it, step aside and sit in longing for the rest of the evening.

Uncomfortably, he shifted on his feet, looking somewhere behind Napoleon.

The touch at his cheek startled Illya; irritated, he looked at Napoleon.

“Can I kiss you?”

Illya nodded, he felt slightly dizzy, but when Napoleon leaned up and pressed his lips against Illya’s, his whole world seemed to focus on this sensation. The hand at Illya’s arm loosened, instead Napoleon slung it around Illya’s neck.

Napoleon’s lips parted and he tilted his head while his tongue pushed at Illya’s lips -

“Guys...”

Abruptly they broke apart.

Napoleon’s arm still lay around Illya’s neck, his fingers were running through the hair at the back of his head, their chests were pressed together. Both of them turned to face Gaby.

“I didn’t think it’d be that easy to finally get you there, but... apparently it was.” She raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Anyway, can you let me in, please? You’re blocking the kitchen.”

Baffled, Illya stepped back. Napoleon did the same and they watched as Gaby entered the room between them.

“Well,” said Napoleon. Their eyes met and Illya smiled hesitantly.

“We don’t need to keep blocking the door if we can kiss without a mistletoe too.”

Illya felt his eyes widen in surprise and huffed with amusement.

He was not sure what to do or say. This power Napoleon had over him, making him speechless so easily, confused him.

“Come on,” Napoleon said, holding out a hand. “Let’s join the party.”

Illya took the hand and could barely suppress a smile.

“Okay, Cowboy.”

They both ignored Gaby sniggering as they left the kitchen and Illya’s worries seemed to evaporate as Napoleon brought their joined hands up to press a kiss to Illya’s knuckles.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it; as always, Blease leave kudos and/or comments <3
> 
> Happy Christmas to all of you, thank you for reading and sticking with me throughout the year and all my fics <3
> 
> Special thanks to the_worrying_kind for being an amazing friend and supporting me in my various obsessions!


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